


(White) Lies

by euhemeria



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [56]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Dynamics of Oppression, Gen, foils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: He knows he must seem too lighthearted, too flippant, must seem that he does not care, enough, about what he did, because he allows himself to be happy now.  But he knows too that suffering begets nothing but suffering, and there is no nobility in forcing himself to be miserable just so he can seem contrite to others.  For him, it is enough to know that he is doing now what is right.Or,Baptiste reflects on the choices he made, and the choices that he was denied access to.





	(White) Lies

**Author's Note:**

> ive been Dying since baptiste was announced and i made a few posts on tumblr abt it but basically. he and mercy are foils. like actually well written foils. which is going to make the interplay between them SO interesting and i love this man already, no hetero. an actually well written character (besides ana)? in MY overwatch????

Many people struggle with change, with beginnings, with endings, with finding one’s place.  Not Baptiste.  If nothing else, he has certainty—always knows that, in the moment, he is right.  Sometimes his decision is the right decision because it is the only way, other times it is the best way, but always it is _the_ way.

He does not think himself infallible, of course, knows that he was wrong to join Talon, wrong to think it was his only option—but when he did so, he did so with utter certainty, with the knowledge, absolute, that it was the _only_ thing he could do, if he wanted to fund his clinic, and that, he still believes was a noble goal.  When he left Talon, he was certain, too, knew that he _had to_ leave, that it was not right to stay, and to do so he had to kill the squad to which he was assigned; he never doubted that decision, does not doubt it now. 

Unlike so many people, he does not hesitate, when he makes such important choices—one moment, he is certain that he is right to be where he is, and the next, he knows that he was wrong to have ever thought that.  What time has he for waffling?

Agonizing over morality is the pastime of the privileged; growing up as an orphan mid-Omnic Crisis, Baptiste did not have the luxury of spending hours, days, weeks mulling over every little thing.  Yes, morality mattered to him—matters now—but he learned, then, to make decisions quickly, to be sure of them, and to do so without regret.

Joining Talon—it was wrong, he knows this, but he cannot _regret_ it.  What good would that do?  No apology will bring back the dead.  So why waste time worrying about it?  Why self-flagellate, when he can move on, can work, now, to make amends, can spend his energy instead on doing what is right?

No, it is better not to regret.  It would do no good for anyone.

Or he tells himself that, at least. 

Late at night, alone with his thoughts and with no good work to distract him—then, he cannot escape the weight of what he did.  Then, he is haunted by it, by the things he told himself were necessary, by the things he thought he was being made to do.  He had a choice, he had a _choice_ , and he chose wrong, chose to pull the trigger, again and again.  How can he forgive himself for that?  How can anyone? 

He cannot, so he makes the choice not to try to, to instead put it behind him, to know that he was wrong, and no amount of justifying will absolve him.

If he cannot choose, fully, not to regret, then he can at least choose not to waste time on such, in the daylight.  His energy is better spent helping others, making better the world he once allowed himself to bring harm to. 

(He knows he must seem too lighthearted, too flippant, must seem that he does not care, enough, about what he did, because he allows himself to be happy now.  But he knows too that suffering begets nothing but suffering, and there is no nobility in forcing himself to be miserable just so he can _seem_ contrite to others.  For him, it is enough to know that he is doing what is right; no matter how he behaves, because of who he is and how he looks, there would be those that find fault with him.)

So Baptiste contents himself, as best he can, with having made the wrong decision, is certain, now, that what he does is right, and that is that—or it ought to be.

Knowing what he did, what he was a party to, it is impossible for Baptiste to forgive himself his past actions, but he is at least able to accept responsibility for that, and it brings him—not joy, but the ability to find contentment, to be at peace with who he is now.  This lasts for a few months, at least.

Those months are blissful, for he feels, for the first time in his life, that he has power, that he has control, that it is he who decides his own fate, and even the fate of others.  A bandage or a bullet, _he_ decides.  No one gives him orders—not Talon, not the Caribbean Coalition, not anyone—and he is free to do what he feels is best, to help those who, like himself, have felt the impact of war.

And then, one day, that illusion is shattered, and quite violently.

Like so many of his decisions, his change of opinion on his relative freedom—or, as it turns out, lack thereof—is a sudden one. 

When Baptiste joined Talon, he thought he had no choice—and he was not so wrong as he has been telling himself, was right, to an extent.  Yes, he had the choice to do what he is doing now, or to help in any number of other ways, but if he wanted to use his skills as a combat medic, and to make a decent wage—well, then his only choices were Talon and Overwatch, and by that time Overwatch was only accepting applications from M.D.s.

Whose decision was that?  Why not accept combat medics with equivalent experience?

Because Angela Ziegler, then the head of Overwatch’s surgical and medical research divisions, decided it ought to be so.  This is not a decision he faults, necessarily—her nanotechnology hardly requires an M.D. or Ph.D. to operate, but it was then only in its earliest phases, and the Valkyrie system had just begun to see action.  If anything had failed, having an understanding of medicine could prove necessary, when it came time to save a patient’s life.  _However_ , the years he served as a combat medic ought, surely, to have counted for equivalent experience.  He knew more about saving patients in the field than any green surgeon, fresh out of medical school and still full of idealism, and was less of a burnout risk, besides. 

But his experience will always be seen as lesser than formal schooling, despite his immaculate service record and his many commendations, he knows this.  And why would it not seem so, to someone who was taught that?

As it was, then, the gold standard the world over for medical research, it makes sense that Overwatch would only want the best, and given the importance of research and innovation—something all too often narrowly defined by academia—it makes sense, too, that they would see the best as only those with degrees.

However, it does not make such true.

Who is to say that, had he been able to afford university, Baptiste would not have been just as capable as any of the M.D.s whom Overwatch ultimately hired?  Who is to say that he would not have been a good fit among them?

Baptiste is not so foolish enough to claim that he would have been Angela Ziegler, would have, in her place, also have discovered nanotechnology, revolutionized medicine the world over and changed the very way humanity thinks about death—but he does not know that he would not have, either.  Unlike her, he never had the chance.

Of course, it makes sense that she would not think of this, seeing his application, would not know that he never had the opportunity to go to medical school—after all, they are similar on paper.  Born just a few months apart, they were both orphaned at the same age, and both driven by that experience, the trauma of the deaths of their parents, the destruction of their communities, the uncertainty of their survival, to spare others the same fate.  What they wanted was—is—the same, to help as many people as possible, in any way that they can, to go to sleep at night knowing that they have saved another child from the life they led.  And if Baptiste could have gone to medical school, he would have.

But here is the truth: for all that their lives have been similar, he and Angela were set apart from birth.  Far be it from him to say that she is lucky, given the familiar trajectory of her life, but certainly she is more fortunate than he, for she was born in Switzerland, and he in Haiti.

Baptiste loves his country, he does, and he loves his people, is proud of them and of their history, what they have overcome and what they will yet accomplish.  Being Haitian is a significant part of Baptiste’s identity, and there is nothing for which he would trade it—but it is also true that being Haitian is not _easy_ , not in the way being Swiss must be.  Since they revolted—freed themselves from French tyranny—Haitians have been the subject of contempt from Europe.  Always, there is some reason given, no matter how flimsy, be it their GDP, their healthcare system, their education levels, but those same nations perpetuate Haiti’s problems, see no issue with the exploitation of its citizens and people for their own profit.  Those in power benefit, if Haiti stays poor, and so they do little to change this.

Such was apparent in the wake of the Omnic Crisis.  Rather than assist all nations according to their level of need, or even distributing aide equally, the United Nations chose, instead, to invest more heavily in some countries than others.

Switzerland was such a one.

Given that Geneva was, historically, and continues to be, the headquarters of several major agencies within the UN, there was a vested interest in propping Switzerland back up, post-Omnic Crisis, in investing in the infrastructure and education of that country, to ensure that the UN workers, who came from the world over, would be well provided for.  When Overwatch’s Headquarters were added to the country, this only led to the strengthening of such initiatives.  Rebuilding Switzerland was no crime, in and of itself, was a good thing—but one cannot deny that Swiss citizens disproportionately benefitted from UN aide and intervention, as a result of this, that their orphans had better outcomes than Crisis orphans in other countries, which were not as directly tied to the UN’s future success.

Orphans like Angela Ziegler.

Having never personally met her, Baptiste holds no animosity towards the woman—from what he has heard, she is genuine, wanting only to help others, and to prevent further harm.  That, Baptiste can understand, can respect, even.  They are both of them doing what they can with what they have been given.

It just so happens that the UN ensured she was given more opportunities than was he.

That is not _her_ fault, but when Baptiste sees posters of her smiling face, sees another profile run on her humanitarian efforts—well, he feels decidedly less than charitable, not because of who she is, but what she comes to represent, for him.

A lack of choice.

For all that he tells himself he has freedom, that he was wrong to think that he had no choice but to join Talon, that is not entirely true.  Yes, he had the choice of whether or not to join Talon, and yes, he chose to leave, chooses now what it is that he does for himself, but his choices were not _unrestricted._

(Hers likely were not either, and he would be a fool to suggest as much.  But his were restricted in different ways, and in any case, in his perfect world, neither of them would have been limited in their choices, nor would anyone be.)

This, Baptiste cannot accept. 

How could anyone?

When it comes to his own role in joining Talon—there, he can take responsibility, even if he knows now it was wrong, and he can be proud that he works as a combat medic, that he helps those who are most in need.  But how can he accept that which he has no responsibility for, which he could not change?  How can he find peace with the fact that, due to the circumstances of his birth, he was granted less access to education, less opportunities in life, than someone who is so essentially similar to himself?

How can he not be angry?

How can he accept that Switzerland was rebuilt, and France, and England, and the northeastern United States, while Haiti was left to struggle on its own, as were Egypt and Mexico?  How can he not notice the pattern there?

But—knowing this—what can he do about it?

Baptiste’s skillset is thus: he can heal, and he can kill.  Both are important, but what effectiveness have they in changing the course of the world?  Very little.

(In Talon, a well-placed bullet might have mattered more, might have influenced world events, but he is not with Talon any longer.  What Baptiste wants is to _end_ the cycle of ceaseless conflict which orphaned him, not perpetuate it.  Killing world leaders—even terrible ones—does not create peace, and seeking revenge against corrupt members of the UN would do nothing to solve the biases which led them to abandon Haiti in the first place.  Bullets did not solve the systematic violence and discrimination faced by Haitians the first time around.  Then again, what else did?)

Perhaps, if Baptiste were someone else, he might be able to speak out, might be able to affect change in that manner—but who would listen to him, after what he has done?  When he joined Talon, he lost any sort of moral high ground, and he accepts this, knows that his words will not have the same weight as others, and that is his own doing.

But he cannot accept the choices which he was robbed of, cannot accept the same happening to other children the world over.  When he tends to children in war zones, he does a terrible thing by giving them hope.  Even as he tells them he used to be in the same position, and look at them now, he feels guilty for it—they do not know, cannot, the road he walked to get here, and one day soon they will learn that their world is not so open as he has claimed.

It is one thing to believe—to know—that his actions have had consequences, that he has done unforgivable things, and that he must move on from that, as best he is able, in order to continue to do good in the world.  It is one thing to see that he had choices, and to know that even if they were unfairly limited, he nonetheless chose wrongly.  These things he can accept, because in the end, he is accountable only to himself.

But accepting that which he did not choose? 

It is hard, to be powerless.

When people who know of his past ask if it keeps him awake at night, he answers them honestly—it does not, has not for some time.  What he does not say is that the future can seem just as terrible.

**Author's Note:**

> me @ baptiste: ahh... nations formerly colonized by the french solidarity.... 
> 
> but like seriously mandatory syria was still a thing when my grandmother was born. and obvs theyre still doing shit to us. therefore ovw making me play the paris map is a hate crime, thank u for coming to my ted talk
> 
> i feel like i should add here that i (obviously, if u look at my other works) dont hate mercy... or have anything against her... but its a fact that altho she had an undoubtedly shitty childhood, systems of power and privilege DID aide her, at least to some degree, in ending up where she did. not everyone is family friends w a founding member of ovw and then finds themself in a position to tour the facilities whilst still a teen. cant have hurt her recruitment chances any (even if i do believe her nanotechnology earned her a place regardless)
> 
> also YES this is another 1d title and NO i could not resist calling it white lies... i tried... believe me i did....
> 
> if this sounds familiar i 1) had a thread abt it on twitter and 2) a post abt it on tumblr both on baptistes release date... so that would be why. also if u have a twitter and want to do things like Vote In Polls abt my fics im @pentilyet... and i let other ppl decide for me what i post and when bc im shit at making decisions
> 
> anyway. hopefully u enjoyed. if not... well. sorry?


End file.
